


"Cover Me" (Forgiveness)

by Ricochet713



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anxiety, Day 7, Day Seven, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Reaper76 - Freeform, Reaper76 Week, They both hurt each other but they both love each other too dammit, i just really like writing comfort ok, it always ends with comfort, it starts with hurt and ends with comfort, my interpretation of canon events, ok not always but most of the time, warm blankets and borrowed pyjamas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 08:38:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9540062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ricochet713/pseuds/Ricochet713
Summary: Even the strongest of bonds can be weakened by misunderstanding, and repairing the damage it causes is a true test of love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my last entry for R76 week, and what a fun week it was! And by "fun" I mean "left me as a blubbering emotional wreck cus my otp has way too much angst and all I want is for these two to hug and be happy is that really so hard???" Anyway, great week, loved the prompts and loved getting to write some more of my two favourite oldies.
> 
> Now that I've posted this one up here I'll be back to my usual writing schedule, starting with a much-needed update for Vermillion & Silver!

Gabriel thundered into the room, eyes blazing, rage rattling through his voice.

“Why the _fuck_ didn’t you tell me?!”

Jack’s attention whipped up from his paperwork, startled, looking like he was trying to decide whether to run or hide. His lips moved, trying to speak, but no words came, and Gabriel continued for him.

“I can’t _fucking_ believe this Jack! I can’t fucking believe _you_. What happened to talking to me? What happened to trusting each other, huh?” He began to pace back and forth in front of the door, running a hand across his clean-shaven scalp. “They were kids, Jack! Damn kids! You conveniently left that out of the fucking brief, didn’t you? You knew I wouldn’t take the mission otherwise, right?”

Jack struggled to find his voice – when he did, it was quiet, small, meek. “What…?”

“What, now you’re gonna play dumb with me? You _knew_ what you were sending us into, you gave me the brief yourself.” Gabriel rounded on him, storming across to the desk and slamming his palms against it so viciously that Jack jumped. “I nearly lost two agents out there today because we got caught off-guard. Kids younger than Jesse running around with sub-machine guns! I had to _shoot_ a kid _younger than Jesse_ , Jack. Do you have any fucking idea what that was like? Having to tell my agents to _shoot kids_. Huh? Do you have any fucking idea?”

“Gabe, I… I didn’t…”

He pushed away from the desk roughly, whirling away, hands curled into fists. “Are you the fucking Strike Commander or not, Jack? You can’t honestly fucking tell me you didn’t know about this. But you know what? It’s the fact that you didn’t tell me that fucks me up. Did you think I’d refuse to take the mission, is that why? Did _they_ tell you not to tell me? Fuck, Jack, I thought you were more than a fucking dog.”

“No, I… Gabe, I didn’t… I didn’t…” His tone quivered, and the sound of it made Gabriel pause.

Turning, he saw that Jack was hunched over his desk, shoulders trembling wildly, chest heaving with strained, ragged breaths. All Gabriel’s anger suddenly rushed from him, replaced immediately by worry. He hurried around the table to Jack’s side, placing his hands gently on Jack’s shaking shoulders, turning him slightly towards him.

“Woah, hey, Jack, hey, look at me.” He gave Jack’s shoulders a soft squeeze, watching the way his blue eyes darted unseeingly. “Hey, Jack, it’s ok, you’re ok…”

“I-I… I didn’t k-know… I’m s-sorry…”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, Jack, it’s ok. I shouldn’t have gotten mad, I’m sorry.”

Jack shook his head sharply – his hands were shaking so badly he had to stuff them between his knees. “N-no, n-not your fault… I… I should’ve…” His face pinched, his voice cracked, and the shaking worsened; Gabriel leant forward to wrap his arms around him.

“Sh, sh, easy Jack… Easy, you’re ok, I’ve got you…”

“I’m s-sorry… I’m so s-sorry…”

A shudder ran through him, prompting Gabriel to hold him tighter, resting his head against Jack’s, cradling him as the attack ran its course. He hadn’t had one since the Omnic Crisis, and Gabriel had almost forgotten how suddenly they could come on; he’d been mad, sure, but he hadn’t meant to hurt Jack like this – he’d never choose to hurt Jack like this, even if he thought Jack had hurt _him_.

“I…I’m not… I can’t do this…” Jack’s voice shook almost as violently as he did, half-muffled against Gabriel’s shoulder as he turned to bury his face against him. “I’m... n-not strong enough…”

“Sh, it’s ok, Jack,” Gabriel lifted a hand to stroke it across Jack’s blonde hair. When he got like this, touch was one of the things that helped Jack most – the feeling of being solid, being grounded, being real, all helped to bring him back to himself, to clear his head.

Jack tried to shake his head, but with his face pressed against Gabriel it was more of a twitch. He leant back, and Gabriel loosened his grip slightly; wet rivulets ran down his cheeks. “No, it’s not ok,” he insisted, trying to put some strength into his words. “I can’t do this, Gabe. I can’t be Strike Commander. I, I can’t… What if you get hurt because… Oh God, Gabe, I… What do I do?” A fresh wave of tears threatened to wash over his eyes, but Gabriel hurriedly pulled him in again before they could flow.

“Hey, Jack, listen to me: it’s not your fault. They, those suits, they’re the ones who did this – they’re the ones at fault.”

There was a mumbled response that Gabriel couldn’t make out; he moved back a little, putting some space between them, but Jack grabbed his arms, stopping him going too far. He looked Gabriel straight in the eyes as he spoke, looking more ragged and broken than Gabriel had ever seen him.

“They didn’t… tell me anything about… about the kids, Gabe. I… I promise. They… they handed me the brief and… and I trusted them… blindly…” His expression hardened. “Because I’m stupid! I’m fucking stupid! I’m stupid and naïve and that’s why they made me Strike Commander, because I’m stupid and useless! I’m stupid and useless and… and… Oh God, Gabe, oh God…” Whatever strength he’d mustered dissolved into a shuddering sob, and he collapsed forward into Gabriel’s arms, crying openly, defencelessly. For a moment, Gabriel almost panicked – he’d never seen Jack this bad before, had he gotten worse? Then he did what he always does best in a difficult situation: he thought fast, cleared his head, and came up with a plan.

“Alright, that’s it, Jack,” he huffed. “You’re coming with me.”

Scooping his arms underneath Jack’s shoulders, he lifted the other man up from the chair, looping one of Jack’s arms over his own shoulders and holding him by the waist with the other. Jack slouched against him, dazedly, confused. “W-what…?”

Slowly, carefully, Gabriel led him towards the door of Jack’s office, the same he had stormed through just minutes ago – he winced at how careless his anger had made him, how reckless he was in his hurt. If he’d just spoken to Jack first… No point thinking about that now. He punched the button on the side panel and helped Jack through once it opened.

The hallways were silent as Gabriel continued to support Jack down the long corridors towards the living quarters; it was late in the evening, and most other agents would have retired to their rooms by now. It was a small blessing – there would be no one around to witness Jack in his current state, which a clear-headed Jack would greatly appreciate. Of course he’d never told anyone about his panic attacks, not even Gabriel. It wasn’t until he’d walked in on Jack having one of his breakdowns during the SEP years that Gabriel had even known there was anything troubling him at all. But Jack was the sort of person to keep pushing until it all became too much, to walk until his feet bled and knees gave out; Gabriel just hoped he’d be there to catch him when it happened.

They made it to Jack’s room without incident, and once Gabriel had shut and locked the door, he carefully steered Jack into the bathroom.

“What are you…?”

“I want you to have a shower,” Gabriel told him. “A good warm one, take your time. You’ll feel a little better, and then, if you want, we can talk.”

Jack looked up at him, blue eyes rimmed with red. “A-are you sure…? You’re not… mad?”

“At you? No. I’m sorry I got upset – and I’m sorry that I upset you.”

Leaning forward, Jack bumped his forehead against Gabriel’s chin in an effort at affection. “I’m sorry that I… I…”

“Mm, nope, not this again.” Gabriel practically dragged him over to the shower before removing his duster. “Warm shower, then we can talk.”

“But…”

“The only butt I wanna see is yours getting into that shower, Jack.”

“Wait, Gabe,” he turned around, worried. “Y-you’re not going anywhere, are you?”

At the concern in his voice, Gabriel softened, offering him a gentle smile. “I’ll just be out in your room, ok? I’m gonna shower after you, so I’ll be right outside the door. I promise.”

Reassured, Jack nodded and got to removing the rest of his outfit while Gabriel turned and headed back out into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar in case Jack called out for him. Once the sound of running water reached his ears he made his way across to the drawers, digging through them to find a pair of pyjamas for Jack and a pair of trousers for himself, laying them out on the bed. With that done, he crossed to the cupboard and rummaged through it until he found a thick, woollen blanket adorned with blue and white checkers. By the time he’d retrieved it from the pile of sheets it was hidden under and had shaken the dust out of it, Jack was standing by the bed, a towel around his waist, staring blankly at the neatly folded pyjamas.

“Put those on,” Gabriel told him, setting the blanket down next to the garments in question and retrieving the trousers. “I’m gonna have a quick shower, ok?”

Jack just nodded, still staring with that far-away look at nothing in particular, and Gabriel hesitated for a moment, unsure of leaving Jack on his own, even for a few moments. Then Jack reached forward to feel the blanket, and Gabriel took that as enough of a sign that it was safe to shower.

Again, he left the door partially open – just in case – as he stripped, turned on the water and stepped underneath the warm, steady stream, grateful to have the lingering dirt and grime from his horror mission washed away. The physical grime, at least. He forcibly removed the all-too-clear memories of the fight, the sounds, the smell… He’d had plenty of practice at not dwelling on those sorts of things.

What he couldn’t help but think about was Jack and the mission brief. Gabriel believed Jack when he’d said that he hadn’t known what was kept out of that damn brief, but _someone_ had to have known; after the mission, Gabriel had learnt that the group was known locally as an organisation of youth rebels. Surely the higher-ups would have known – they were the ones who had given him the mission, had identified the target – so did that mean that they’d deliberately withheld the information from him? From Jack? If that was the case, it didn’t bode well for either of them. What else were they hiding from the two of them? And, even more frightening, _why_ were they hiding it?

Gabriel turned the faucet off and dried himself with the towel that was always left out for him – Jack had the bigger room, so they usually stayed in it on the nights they spent together. Slipping into the trousers – just a little bit tight around his thighs – Gabriel returned to the room to find Jack sitting on the bed, dressed in his pyjamas with the blanket wrapped tightly around his neck and shoulders to form an uneven pyramid of warmth. He looked exhausted, with dark rings beginning to mingle with the red around his eyes, strands of wet blonde hair sticking to his forehead, lips drawn down into a glum shape, but when he noticed Gabriel, he lifted his head and made a weak effort at a smile.

“Hey…”

“How’re you going, Jackie?” he asked, walking across the bed.

Jack watched him, almost puppy-like. “A bit better.” His voice was soft, tired. “The shower helped. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m always gonna look out for you, ok?”

“Even when I…”

“ _Always_ gonna look out for you,” Gabriel repeated firmly. He crawled up onto the bed to position himself behind Jack, legs stretched out on either side of him, arms reaching around his waist to pull him back against Gabriel’s chest, the blanket soft under his chin. “No matter what.”

Jack leant back into him with a sigh. “I’m sorry I freaked out like that.”

“Don’t be,” Gabriel gave him a squeeze. “I’m sorry I got mad.”

“Don’t be.”

They were quiet for a moment, then Jack shifted.

“I… It scared me. Thinking that I… that you could’ve gotten hurt.” His hands found Gabriel’s arms and held them, tightly. “Then thinking that… that I might have been… I don’t know, manipulated? That there was something I hadn’t known… That I couldn’t control what was happening…”

“I know,” Gabriel murmured to him, pressing his chin into Jack’s shoulder. “You’ve always hated feeling like that.”

Jack shook his head. “It was worse this time, because it was you. Because I couldn’t control what was happening to you, couldn’t keep you safe…” His voice wavered again.

“Hey, easy Jack, easy…” Gabriel wound his arms around Jack, drawing him in, cradling him. “I’m here, aren’t I? We’re here, together.”

“But what about next time? What if…?”

“How about this: we make a promise. A promise to talk to each other, and to trust each other. Something doesn’t seem right? We talk about it. We’ve got an issue with something? We tell each other. No hiding things, no assumptions, no secrets. If those suits really are trying to pull something, let’s promise each other that we won’t let it get between us.”

For a few moments Jack was still, thinking, and Gabriel would’ve killed to know what was running through his head. Before he could ask, Jack seemed to make up his mind, and twisted in Gabriel’s grip, peering at him over the blanket covering his shoulder. “I… I like the sound of that.”

“Promise?”

A small, tentative smile. “Promise.”

Gabriel leant forward to kiss him gently on the nose, and Jack’s smile grew. They lingered as they were for a time, huddled together, Jack warm and real against him – safe, home, here – until he noticed Jack’s head nodding forward and his shoulders beginning to tilt.

“Alright, Jackie, it’s bedtime for you.”

There was a mumbled protest as Gabriel moved behind him, then Jack was practically dragged to the edge of the bed, where Gabriel half-lifted and half-dropped him to the floor with a cat-like protest, still clutching the blanket around him. Once Gabriel had prepared the bed he lifted Jack up again and returned him to the bed, prying the blanket out of his grip – “aren’t I allowed to have some blanket, too?” “…ok…” – before sliding in next to him, pulling the blanket and sheets over both of them.

Jack curled into him as he settled down, arms wound around each other, legs entangled.

“Gabe,” he whispered, his hair tickling Gabrie’s collarbone, “I’m glad you’re ok.”

Gabriel placed a faint kiss against the blonde strands. “I hope you’re ok, too.”

When Jack tilted his head up to look at Gabriel, his eyes were half-lidded with fatigue, but bright, and his smile was warm. “I am, thanks to you. As long as I have you, I’ll always be ok, won’t I?”

“Always.”


End file.
